


That's What Friends Are For

by someones_fallen_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Benny Lafitte - Freeform, College Castiel/Dean Winchester, College Student Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Guardian Angel Castiel, I almost cried and Im the one who fucking wrote it, M/M, Vampires, Wendigo, Werewolves, Winchester - Freeform, dean!cas, not sure where this is going but I like it, so fucking sad OMG
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1841842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someones_fallen_angel/pseuds/someones_fallen_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been best friends with the Bradbury sisters since they were little girls. Now he and the older girl, Olivia, live together and attend the same university. Liv finally asks about the "family business" and finds that her own experiences are valid....but becomes curious about the stranger who helped her -- she could have sworn that he had wings...but that is ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Whole New World

It was the end of August and Dean was finally settled in his new apartment, with his roommate Olivia. The past year had been a rough one for both of them since Dean had decided to take a year off before college so he could partake in “the family business,” whatever the hell that actually meant. Olivia and Dean had grown up together, and were nearly inseparable. Sammy, Dean’s brother, was friends with Olivia’s sister Charlie, who was his age. Everybody always assumed that Liv and Dean were a thing, and the two never really confirmed or denied it. They were always simply OliviaAndDean. 

Liv had a hard time when Dean took to the road with his dad, John, and she had to suffer through her first awkward year at college, alone. The thing about Dean working with his dad was that he didn’t ever have much time to talk to her. He couldn’t listen to her problems, and he wasn’t around to climb through her bedroom window and comfort her like he did when they were younger and her father drank too much at night. Olivia had to do it all alone and it wasn’t something she was used to. 

Sammy was a sophomore in high school that year and while he felt fine being left on his own, he had to go live with a family friend, Bobby. Liv felt bad for Sammy, but knew that it was best for him to stay in this school and not move around anymore. After the boys’ mother died, he put everything he had into his school-work. He wanted to make his mom proud. Liv had a hunch that he still blamed himself for his mom dying. If she hadn’t run into his room to save him the night of the fire, she would still be alive. There was something strange about the fire that night, something that made Olivia uneasy, and she wasn’t sure that anything could have saved Mary – almost like it was fate.

Olivia jumped when the smoke detector in the apartment started making the most hellacious beeping, and her thoughts of the past quickly vanished and were replaced by fear. She jumped off her bed and ran to the kitchen where Dean was standing at the stove, wearing oven mitts, fanning at the black smoke billowing up from the charred garlic bread. She gave Dean a bitch-face (something she picked up from Sammy all the times she had babysat) and went to turn off the alarm, as well as open a few windows.

“Dude. Seriously? I leave you alone to make the easiest dinner ever, and you nearly burn the place down?”

“I forgot it was in the oven! I was busy cooking the burger and noodles, then I just…forgot…”

“Freckles, that’s why you make the garlic bread LAST, while everything else is mixed together, melding into saucy, meaty, pasta-y goodness! How can you fuck up spaghetti?”  
Dean looked at Liv with a disappointed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Shorty…I wanted everything to be great for you tonight. I wanted to try to make up for being gone last year…we both know how royally fucked that got,” Dean said as he scraped the charred remains of what was once garlic-y goodness, into the trash.

Liv paused for a few moments, wide-eyed, staring at the floor before she gave a quiet, “Mhmmm,” in reply.

Dean squinted at her a moment before turning back to the stove and stirring the burger into the pot with the sauce-covered noodles. Liv grabbed the box of garlic bread from the freezer and plopped a few more slices on the pan before sliding it back into the oven. The smoke was almost cleared.

“This time we’ll set a timer,” she said with a smirk.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dinner took a little longer to finish than expected, but in the end it was worth it. The spaghetti was perfect, and the second batch of garlic bread fared much better than the first. Dean and Olivia sat at their freshly assembled dinner table and chatted about random stuff, like the start of classes the following week, while Pink Floyd played on vinyl in the background. If there were two things Dean was passionate about, they were his ’67 Chevy Impala, Baby, and his collection of classic rock – on vinyl. He actually crammed every item of clothing he had into a dresser, so his entire closet could be dedicated to his albums. Some thought he was weird for it, but to Olivia, that was just one of the charms of Dean Winchester.

“Earth to Shorty, Earth to Shorty. Jeezus, chica, you still alive in there?” Dean snapped his fingers in front of Olivia’s face, and she jumped a bit, coming back to the land of the living. 

Without so much as an explanation, or prelude of any kind, Liv simply stared Dean straight in the eyes and asked, “Why did you believe me? You were the only one who didn’t bat an eye when I told you what happened that night. Why?”

Dean had expected her to ask that question eventually, and he had mentally prepared himself to answer her…but in the moment of her finally asking, his mind drew a blank so he had to wing it. 

“After being on the road last year, there are things that don’t seem quite so shocking anymore,” he said, simply.

“You know…it really is about time for you to tell me about what you actually did out there, Dean Winchester. You come back and you’re different…and when I tell you that during my first year of college I get attacked by something out of a horror movie…with these gnarly teeth and the face of an orc, then I get saved or healed or whatever by a…a guy with wings, you don’t even fucking flinch! Everybody thinks I was drugged at that party, and I hallucinated on my walk home. They think that I must have hit my head on something and that is how I got this,” she pointed to the still-pink scar on her forehead, trailing through her right eyebrow and down to her cheek. “They think that I possibly got mugged and that was why I remembered the so-called-monster. But, no. I know what I saw. All of it. I was awake the entire time…and I wasn’t even drunk! Maybe a little tipsy, but not drunk, or drugged. I tell you all this, and the only thing I can see in your face? Anger, and a little fear. No disbelief. No ‘oh my God my best friend has gone off the deep-end.’ Nothing. Explain that, Dean!” Olivia was shouting and shaking by the time she finished speaking. Her napkin was tattered and ripped from her wringing it in her hands.

“It was a Wendigo.”

“W-what?”

“The thing that attacked you. It was real. Very real. It’s called a Wendigo – it is a monster,” Dean said, quietly. “and I killed it after you told me what happened to you.”  
Olivia’s mouth was hanging open and she was staring at Dean with a look of confusion, fear, and admiration.

“Y-y-you killed it?” Olivia stuttered, eyes wide.

“Yeah…I was planning on starting school second semester, but when you called me and told me what happened, I raced straight to you. I believed every word. I had the fight with Dad, and I was gonna be done with…working…but when it struck someone I cared about, I went after it, on my own. That’s what I was doing with my dad on the road, Liv. Saving people, hunting things…the family business.” Dean continued when he realized that Olivia was still too shocked to talk.

“The Winchester’s are hunters, Liv. We hunt monsters, ghosts, ghouls, everything that you think is just a fairy-tale. It’s not. They’re real, and we kill them. Well, I don’t anymore…but I did. My dad does. Sammy doesn’t know yet. He is a good kid. Innocent. He doesn’t need all this on him, too.”

Olivia seemed to snap out of her stupor, then. She suddenly seemed okay…like all she needed was to hear that she was indeed, sane.

“Wait, so that’s how you were able to come to this university with me, wasn’t it? You got the scholarship to be on the Marksmanship Team here at the school because you are really fucking good at shooting things…and…killing things, I guess…”

“I literally just dropped a bombshell and that is what you ask first? Wow…you’re taking this better than I expected,” Dean said as he ran his hands through his hair, amazed.

“I already knew that the thing was real. I mean, sans all those details. But I KNEW. I SAW it, Dean. I guess I just needed some reassurance, and I always knew there was something funky with your family…travelling mechanic my ass!” she said, and added a grin at the end.


	2. I'm a Lover, Not a Fighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tells Olivia the story of why he really came home.

Dean may have known Olivia for their entire lives, and he may have known her better than anyone else, but he definitely hadn’t expected her to take the big news quite so in-stride. She didn’t even really ask him any questions…the only thing she wanted to know about was what he meant when he said he had “the fight” with his dad. He grimaced as he remembered that he hadn’t told her, or, well, anybody. But, it wasn’t like he could have told her. She wouldn’t have understood exactly how horrible the entire situation was. But now she knew enough, and he sat down on their couch and told her the story…

He and John had been chasing down a pack of werewolves and ended up down in Louisiana, right near the bayou. The trip was taking longer than normal, and John had a suspicion that somehow someone knew that they were closing in on the pack, and so they were warned. They just kept being lead in circles. They were in Louisiana for a few weeks, finding only a few random omegas, strays so to speak, without a pack…so they were no help in tracking down the others.

After several boring nights in a musty hotel room, Dean decided to go out for the evening and unwind a bit. He had killed his first werewolf that night, and it unnerved him a bit so he wanted a drink. He had just only turned 19, but his fake ID was convincing enough for the sweet thing behind the bar…surely his devilish good looks and flirty personality had nothing to do with it. Dean ordered a whiskey on the rocks, and wandered over to the jukebox to coin up “Carryon My Wayward Son,” which was one of his favorites. There were a few hoots from the barroom as he made his way back to his stool, next to which sat a tall guy in a fisherman’s cap, white long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and suspenders. Dean wondered if he was a hipster as he grabbed his seat next to the man.

“Hey brotha! Didn’t know you was sittin’ there. Hope ya don’t mind. I don’t bite,” the man said with a wide grin and a guttural laugh.

“Not at all, man. Just having a drink. Name’s Dean. You?”

“Nice ta meet ya, Dean. I’m Benny. LaFitte. Y’aint from here, are ya brotha?”

“Nah, I’m originally from Kansas, but I’m living in Michigan. On a work trip with my old man right now.”

“Mmm. Whatcha doin’ workin’ so far from home?” Benny asked with a questioning nod.

“Uh, well he’s a mechanic. But he travels a lot doing odd jobs.” Dean tried to play it cool, but a traveling mechanic is an odd career choice.

“I hear ya brotha. Uh, I could be wrong here but don’t the cars usually come to the mechanic?” he asked in his adorable Cajun accent, with another hearty laugh.

Dean couldn’t help but give a big laugh at that. It was something that he would have said. It may have been the whisky, or maybe he was legitimately happy, but Dean laughed hard for the first time since his mom died. He looked up to the face of Benny, and noticed the gentlest blue eyes and longest lashes he had ever seen. He had only known the man a few minutes, yet he already felt like he could trust him with his life. Yes, he knew that sounded silly…it was probably just the whiskey.

The two men sat and talked for hours, enjoying each other’s company, buying each other drinks. They got along like brothers, but Dean started to feel that familiar tingle down in his gut after a while. He liked Benny. He liked him a lot. The whiskey made it easier to accept that. He was handsome in his own unique way. He wasn’t a hipster, just genuinely old-fashioned. When Dean scooted closer to Benny, during his tipsy-stage, he noticed that Benny smelled like the ocean, and pipe tobacco – the good kind…something sweet. Was it, peaches? Maybe peaches and cream. Yes, that was it. Dean liked the smell. It was sweet, and tangy, and smokey. It was nice.

“Wouldja like tuh go outside with me, Bennay?” Dean asked after a few too many drinks.

“Mmm. Yeah, brotha.” Benny drawled in response, with a slight hum in his throat.

Dean slapped a $20 on the bar as they stumbled out the door, Benny’s arm around Dean’s shoulders. They made it to the parking lot and over to the Impala, and Benny whistled when he saw it.

“Man, she is gorrrrr-geous!”

“She’s my Baby. Best damn car. Ever.”

“Mhmmm…bet she rides nice and smooth, too…” Benny replied, with a lazy smile and wink at Dean.

“Was that a—were you, uh. Were you fli…” Dean was cut off when Benny planted a wet kiss right on his mouth, surprisingly lightly for such a big guy.

“It was, brotha.” Benny replied as he pulled away from Dean, staring down at the man, grinning. The drukeness added a level of bravery to Benny’s character. He never would have been so cocky while sober.

“Thas’okay Bennay. You kin do it’gain if you liiike,” Dean said, in a definitely drunken daze, with a smile on his face.

Benny proceeded to grab the younger man by the shoulders and push him against Baby, kissing him more roughly than the first time. Dean didn’t mind. He had known he was gay since he was 8 years old when he had a crush on a boy in school. He kissed him at recess one day and got reprimanded, especially once John found out. From that day forward he only openly flirted with women. They liked him. It was too easy. But he secretly went after the guys, and the only one who knew was Olivia…and that was because they were each other’s perfect covers. Dean was gay, and Liv was bi-sexual but tended to date more girls. Both socially unacceptable, for the most part. They never told anyone they were a couple, but everyone believed it. So why ruin a good thing?

Dean tried to open the back door to the Impala as Benny smothered him with kisses and nipped at his neck. The man sure liked biting…not that Dean minded. He pried the door open and slid inside, pulling Benny by the suspenders after him. The two kissed and grabbed and squeezed and moaned. Dean’s hands found Benny’s zipper and worked the man’s cock free from its cloth prison. The moan in the man’s throat was almost animalistic, and that turned Dean on even more. He leaned down and took Benny’s cock in his mouth, easing up and down, taking the length in his mouth. Benny groaned and grabbed a handful of Dean’s hair, pulling his head further down onto his cock. Dean was eager to please, and wanted Benny to fuck him. He wanted something on the goddamn trip to be worthwhile. Why not hook up?

After about 30 minutes of messing around and thoroughly steaming up the windows, Dean begged Benny to fuck him, hard. And he obliged. Dean was ready, willing, and plenty stretched out. He raised his ass in the air and rested his face against the window, and the coolness felt good on his hot skin. Benny rubbed his finger around Dean’s hole.

“Glove box!” Dean managed to blurt out.

Benny reached over the passenger seat and rummaged in the compartment for a moment and moaned a bit as his hand closed around a familiar shape. He maneuvered into his original position as he pulled a condom from his back pocket and used the lube provided by Dean. Benny was thick, and Dean was anticipating something incredible, and he was not disappointed. Benny eased into him with skill, and rode Dean hard. He was whimpering beneath Benny and ready to cum before very long. Benny reached forward and wrapped his massive hand around Dean’s throbbing cock, squeezing and pulling in rhythm with his thrusts. He bent down and bit the back of Dean’s neck, hard…Dean felt something extra sharp in that bite, but his mind was hazy from the remaining alcohol in his system.

“Shit…you’re a – and I’m a –” Dean started to say, before he felt a tingle spread from the bite that Benny left. For a second he believed he was going to die. The infection would spread, and Dean would shift…or he would die. Although dying while fucking wouldn’t be the worst way to go, he thought. The tingle spread all through his body. While every nerve he had was telling him that he needed to run and that he was in danger he just couldn’t bring himself to move…or to kill Benny. He knew what he was, and he didn’t even care! The worst part? He didn’t care that he didn’t care. He liked how the tingle was spreading. It made all of the sensations even more intense. He felt the minute movements of Benny, still inside of him, as well as jerking him off.

“Relax now, hunta boy. You ain’t gon die. And you ain’t gon turn. This is just for fun. Let yourself go an it’ll feel even betta,” Benny cooed.

The voice sounded like a ghostly tendril of music to Dean’s ears. He let himself go, completely, and relaxed as Benny said. He felt each millimeter of pleasureful friction of all the places he and Benny were touching. He felt each pound of his heart. He felt his swollen cock reaching it peak…

“I—I’m gonna…..” Dean choked out as his hips began to buck against Benny. He felt the man press deeper within him, as he let his own load blow. They moaned together and Dean rode out his high. It was the best orgasm he had ever had…and he had a feeling it had something to do with the fact that he had just been erotically bitten and injected with something, and fucked, by a vampire.

Dean whimpered as Benny released his dick, and pulled out. He grabbed a roll of paper towel from under the driver’s seat, and offered him some to clean up. The men shared a few more sloppy kisses while getting dressed.

After they were dressed and composed themselves, they sat and talked in the back for a little while. Mostly it was Benny doing the talking. Somehow Dean was still not as freaked out or murderous as he should have been considering he was fucked by the very thing he usually killed. But there was something about Benny. Something that was kind, and pure, and not like the other monsters that he encountered…then again, maybe all it took was getting to know them.

That was his epiphany. Dean didn't want to be a hunter anymore... Dean realized as he talked to Benny, that contrary to what he had been raised believing, not all ‘monsters’ were actually bad. Sure there were some who really were horrible, but others remembered what it was like to be human. They didn’t want to lose their humanity – so they didn’t. They tried their best to live normal lives. Like Benny. He didn’t kill anyone and get blood that way. He would sometimes drain animals, but it didn’t sustain him as long…so he raided bloodbanks most of the time, or occasionally he would drain the blood out of someone who was already dead. But he hadn’t kill a person in over 40 years. Apparently vamps didn’t age, Dean thought, because Benny didn’t look a day over 28.

As the night grew weary and Dean lost his energy, they stepped out of the car. He felt Benny stiffen beside him, and raise his nose to the air. Dean instinctively reached for his machete.

“Here comes trouble, brotha. They ain’t my friends. And they definitely ain’t yours.”

Dean looked around Benny’s hulking frame and saw two men approach, and they already had their fangs bared.

The werewolves.

“You’re on our turf, leech!” The taller of the two wolves spat towards Benny.

“We ain’t lookin’ for no trouble, lads. We’ll be on our way,” Benny said with a hint of nervousness.

“Too late for that!” the other wolf barked out.

The men charged at Dean and Benny, and they certainly had their hands full. Dean was a skilled fighter, but the wolves were angry, and strong. He held his own for quite a while, stealing a few glances at his temporary lover. Benny was strong, and fast, and doing just fine. He seemed to be winning. Dean was startled as Benny’s fangs slid from their sheath as he slugged the wolf-man in the face, dropping him to his knees, and he bit right through its spinal cord, blood spurting everywhere. Dean landed a well-aimed elbow to the stomach of the one he was up against, when Benny appeared and snapped its neck, followed by Dean decapitating it.

With such a ruckus from the fighting, Dean didn’t hear the footsteps approaching before it was too late. It was his father…he had a machete in his hand, and look of pure rage on his face.

Dean gasped and felt everything move in slow motion. Benny saw the look on Dean’s face, and turned around to see what the problem was. Dean screamed, “NOOOOO! Dad WAIT!” as loud as he could, but in one swift motion, with no time to react, the machete severed Benny’s head clean from his body, and the man’s legs crumpled, and his body fell, lifeless.

Dean fell to the ground, yelling, frantically grasping at Benny’s body, tears streaming down his cheeks. John grabbed him by his collar and slammed him against the car.

“I saw you get out of the car with him, Dean. I tracked those damn wolves right here! I watched you fight, and you were just fine. I taught you well, but not well enough it seems. That...that....thing let his teeth out and I saw you look right at him. And you didn’t flinch. BOY, what the fuck is wrong with you? You knew he was a monster! I can handle you being a faggot, but I can’t handle you befriending the scum of the earth. They are abominations, boy!”

Dean grabbed his father by the wrist and pushed him off of him. He didn’t cry another tear, and he didn’t say a word until he walked to the driver’s side of the car. He wrenched open the door,

“Don’t you walk away from ME, son! We aren’t finished here!” John growled.

“I am. Fuck you, you evil sonofabitch,” Dean spat as if it were poison.

He dropped into his seat, slammed the door, started the engine and drove away all before John could figure out what happened. He sped to the hotel to fetch his things before his father returned, and after that he headed straight for Olivia’s. It was mere coincidence that she called him in hysterics, telling him what had happened, while he was already driving.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Oh my God, Dean….sweetheart….I am so fucking sorry!” Olivia wrapped her arms around him as he told her how everything happened. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she held him tight. All she could do was comfort her friend, and that was all he wanted, too. For the first time in almost a year, he let himself cry. He let himself mourn the loss of his friend, his lover, and he admitted, possibly his first love. He cried and cried in Liv’s arms until he was all out of tears…and then he wanted to cry some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea of where this is going, now! :D  
> This was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it so far.


	3. Wendigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia thinks about the night that everything in her life changed, as she holds a sobbing Dean Winchester. She can't seem to forget the face, or the voice, of the man who apparently helped her.

Olivia didn’t know how long she held onto Dean while he sobbed, but she didn’t care. She was still grateful and amazed that he had actually killed the thing that had attacked her…the Wendigo. She still wasn’t quite sure how she hadn’t died that night. If Dean knew what he was talking about, the Wendigo was a creature who craved human flesh. It should have eaten her, but it didn’t. She remembered being bored at the party, it was really lame…so she decided to walk home. She wasn’t concerned about being alone. She had her pocket-knife and cell phone, and didn’t think anything could go wrong…but it did. She remembered about 98% of what happened that night; the only hazy part was once the winged guy showed up. 

Liv was walking home from the party at about 12:30 and had only had one beer before leaving. She wasn’t drunk, and she knew she wasn’t drugged because she got her own drink and never set it down. She just felt bored, tired, and wanted to get home. The walk wasn’t very far if she cut through the alley between the science buildings on campus, so she did. It was the only sketchy area of the walk and she purposefully had her knife in her hand…just in case. It was a gift from Dean for graduation, just for nights like this. She smiled as she thought about her best friend. She loved how much he cared about her.

She was halfway through the alley when she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Her pace quickened when she heard a bottle roll on the ground behind her. She knew something bumped it, and she didn’t really want to know what it was. Liv could feel her heartbeat pound a little harder when she heard the weirdest noise behind her. It was almost like a growl. She was really hoping it was just a stray dog, and not something like a rabid coyote…or worse. She stole a quick glance over her right shoulder, right as the claw ripped across her face, knocking her to the ground to face her attacker. She let out a scream as the pain seared into her, and red blurred her vision. With her unobstructed eye she got a look at the beast, and she couldn’t fathom what she saw.

It was big. It was tall. And it was possibly the ugliest thing she had ever seen. It had a face like an orc, with some kind of antlers on its head, and it had a body like what she could only describe as a werewolf – like the Harry Potter kind, not the Teen Wolf kind… Its claws were razor sharp and resembled extended human fingernails with a dangerous point, and were much thicker. The beast stood at least 7 feet tall, or at least appeared to from her vantage point on the concrete. She screamed again as it crouched over her legs, grabbing her with scarily human-like hands. Liv tried to get up and run, but was paralyzed with fear. 

The beast glared at her with squinty red eyes, and snarled as it lunged at her. Its claws sunk into her hips as its jaws clamped around her upper arm. She almost blacked out with pain, but remembered the blade in her other hand. With a rush of adrenaline, she slashed it at the creatures head, and when it threw its head back and roared, she stabbed at its mutated chest. The blade hit his chest and he yowled like a dog being kicked. An odd searing steam rose from the wound and he leapt off of her, fleeing. She watched the beast scramble back down the alley and around the corner before her fear released its grip and she tried to move. 

Her leg flooded with pain when she attempted to stand. She wiped the blood from her eye with her shirt sleeve and looked at her leg. When had that happened? At the knee, her leg was bent at a horrible angle, but she hadn’t remembered the beast breaking it…unless she was too scared to notice any pain besides on her face. She took a deep breath and used her good arm to pull herself over to the wall of the science building. She leaned against it, closing her eyes, and sighed as she tried to pull herself together. She needed a clear head to comprehend what parts of her body needed immediate attention. When she opened her eyes, there was a man in a long trenchcoat, with black wings protruding from his back. Liv almost screamed again, but something in his young face, soft features, and kind eyes silenced her. She tilted her throbbing head to the side, as if it would help everything make sense. She squinted at the man, convinced that the wings were just a trick of the night.

“I can help you, Olivia,” said the man in a gravelly voice.

Her eyes widened as he said her name. How did he know her? She was confused, but his voice was soothing, for some odd reason. It was deeper than she expected for a man roughly the same age as her. He knelt down in front of her, staring at her with a concerned look on his beautiful face…big, deep blue eyes. The bluest she’d ever seen! He reached his hand toward her face, and she flinched.

“How do you know who I..” she stammered as his fingers touched her forehead.

She didn’t get an answer, she just felt warm. Very warm and cozy. Her mind was empty and filled with a soothing yellow-white light. She felt like she was floating on clouds, but there was nothing to see. She felt like sleep. She was relaxed, and rested. For some reason something felt off, though. She had a nagging feeling that she should be feeling pain…but she couldn’t remember why. She grasped at that thought, and pulled at it, forcing it out of the beautiful light. She felt the memory being dragged from the depths of her soul, like her body was trying to keep it from her. She fought with it. She wanted to know, and the closer it got to the surface, the more the pretty light faded, and she began to feel a dull ache in her head. She wasn’t floating anymore, and she felt something hard beneath her. She felt her body again. As the memory finally breeched the floodgates, and crashed around in her skull, she opened her eyes, blinking in the early dawn light. 

Liv looked around her, and saw that she was still sitting in the alley, but she wasn’t really in pain. In her mind flashed an image, almost like a video scene, of what happened the night before. She shuddered when she remembered her misshapen leg, and glanced down and noticed it was completely normal. It was back to its normal state. She tentatively bent it and it worked perfectly – no pain. She gingerly touched her face, and there was no blood. There was just a deep scratch, with a scab…that felt like it had been healing for weeks already. She quickly yanked at the sleeve of her shirt, revealing the place on her arm where the beast had taken a bite, and there was nothing but a ghost of a line. Anything could have made the line…but she knew it wasn’t normal. 

Olivia carefully got to her feet and looked all around her. Nobody was around. Not a single soul. She didn’t know what time it was, or even what day. She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked it. 

Sunday, July 10.  
6:12am

[2 Missed Calls:]   
Freckles – 12:45 am  
Freckles – 1:50 am

[5 Text Messages:]  
Freckles – Livy I need to talk to you.  
Freckles – Liv answer your phone, I know you’re awake.  
Freckles – Olivia are you okay? You never ignore me. I’m on my way home plz call.  
Anna – Liv, can you maybe not come back tonite? I have a guy coming over so u maybe should stay out…k thnx luv u! IOU!  
Anna – Well that didn’t work out. U can come back whenever.

So it was Sunday morning, she had slept in an alley for roughly 6 hours after being attacked and apparently healed, Dean was coming home, and she had a shitty roommate who didn’t even worry that she didn’t reply. She wondered what the hell had happened to her life. So she did what she always did when she needed to figure things out…she called Dean Winchester and told him everything.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm not entirely sure which direction this is going, but I'm enjoying writing it! Leave me suggestions if you'd like. I hope you enjoy it! :)


End file.
